


Clutch

by yeaka



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11892153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Zexion struggles and craves this.





	Clutch

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fair warning that I’m still playing through the KH series so don’t know all its lore yet.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It hurts when Demyx slides home, but it’s Zexion’s own fault—he said he was ready before it was true. It’s always hard to tell. Once Demyx’s fingers are in him, he just wants _more_ , and his normally cool, precise mind flies right out the window. Instead, he clings to Demyx’s already-sweating back and pulls Demyx flush against him. Demyx kisses the side of his face and hisses, “Yeah, just like _that_.”

Gritting his teeth, Zexion grunts, but he still takes it—wouldn’t stop this for the world. The oil that Demyx uses to polish his sitar eases the way, though Zexion’s no fan of the lewd slickness. He just needs it. Needs _this_. His legs lift from the sheets, knees closing around Demyx’s hips, his whole body cocooned around Demyx’s lithe form. Demyx shudders in his arms and moans. 

Then Demyx starts to move, and Zexion dizzily takes each staccato thrust. Alone in Zexion’s room, the crude sound of slapping skin-on-skin reverberates off every wall. They’re both gloriously naked, all the thick fabrics of their dark cloaks peeled aside, and Zexion relishes that state, even if he’d never admit it. He savours being able to slide his greedy fingers along Demyx’s gorgeous figure, tracing every curve and ducking into every nook and cranny. He memorizes the smooth feeling of Demyx’s skin, and he indulgently slides one hand up through Demyx’s silk-soft hair. Demyx groans and presses their foreheads together, eyes closed in shuddering bliss. Zexion keeps his open. He wants to _see_ it all.

He watches the pinch in Demyx’s face when he drives home, the tense clasp of his pearly-white teeth, the elegant dip of his high cheekbones and the messy strands of fallen blond hair. He’s exquisite. And he’s annoying and loud and nothing Zexion ever thought he’d want, until he felt Demyx inside him, felt Demyx’s insides, and knew he had to have it all again. 

He chokes on his own gasp when Demyx finally finds it: the right angle that makes Zexion arch off the mattress and squirm in Demyx’s grip. Demyx snakes both hands under Zexion’s ass to squeeze, kneading his cheeks whilst sliding home, and Zexion is a writhing mess. Demyx hits it again right after, but misses the next. Demyx works into a pounding beat that’s loud in Zexion’s ears, pure ecstasy one second and teasing torture the next. Zexion doesn’t know which of them is panting louder, sweating more, burning hotter. He clutches Demyx impossibly tighter and stares at Demyx’s mouth.

He wants a kiss. Many kisses. And he wants to stop feeling bizarrely attached to this wild dork that never gets his missions done. But Zexion’s non-existent heart has a mind of its own, and he wants to _be with Demyx_ just as bad. Then Demyx slams down and chooses for him: they meet for a searing, messy kiss that nearly pushes Zexion over the edge. 

But what gets Zexion most is when Demyx’s wicked tongue slides out of him, and Demyx lifts up on both elbows to look down at him while they fuck. Demyx’s eyes are so dilated that they’re almost all pupil, the clear turquoise around the edges shimmering in the stark white all around them. Demyx brushes some of Zexion’s steel-blue bangs aside to kiss his face, then murmurs, “You’re pretty.”

Zexion can feel his cheeks heating. He’s both annoyed and flattered, especially because Demyx is damn hot. The best looking in the Organization, easily. Maybe of all the people Zexion’s ever seen. And he crawls into Zexion’s bed for a vocal fuck after almost every mission.

Facing that, Zexion wants to break. But Demyx does first. He comes with an animal’s cry, thrusting home and filling Zexion up, bursting inside him. Zexion grunts and clenches down, wanting to milk it out, loving Demyx’s moan. Demyx looks best when he’s right on the edge. His face is picture perfect mid-orgasm. Zexion memorizes every minute detail.

And Zexion follows a moment later, hissing his release and spilling between them. He wasn’t touched, but he doesn’t have to be—the rub between their sweat-slicked stomachs is enough. The caress of Demyx’s scalding skin is enough. Yet as Zexion deflates, Demyx mutters, “Sorry, sorry—fuck, I’ll get you next time—I promise—”

Zexion just shakes his tired head. If he’d wanted it, he would’ve reminded Demyx halfway through. But it would’ve sped him faster to the end, and he likes to enjoy his time. Demyx nuzzles apologetically into his cheek, insufferably cute to the last. 

Then Demyx pulls out of him, dragging a mess for Zexion’s sheets, and Zexion winces. He clenches, feeling horribly empty, only for Demyx to collapse atop him. Demyx always stays after. And Zexion’s traitorously grateful for that. 

Demyx yawns, “Gonna crash here for the night, ‘kay?” Like there was ever any doubt. 

And then he’s asleep like a baby, and Zexion is left to lie there, and bear his weight, and face a sea of impossible emotion. Maybe Nobodies can’t love. But Zexion knows they can at least _make love_ , and it makes him wonder about the rest, with Demyx warm in his arms.


End file.
